


Seeking A Friend For the End Of The World

by moushkas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Bromance, Gen, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moushkas/pseuds/moushkas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is coming to an end and for the first time in years, Castiel Novak is going to step outside his apartment complex. He’ll finally go to the bar down the street, meet people who aren’t his immediate family, drink his first beer, punch a biker in the face, and go on a road trip cross country for his new best friend. Yes, now that the world is ending, Castiel is finally living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking A Friend For the End Of The World

****

**Seeking A Friend For The End of The World  
Part One**

****

 

Castiel Novak did not like people. He loved his twin brother, Jimmy, and he had tolerated his parents growing up. But that was the extent of his likeness for people. As individuals they were loud, they smelled like all kinds of things but not his house, and they liked to touch. The only thing worse than an individual person that was not his twin brother, was when there were groups of them. They were all fighting for the same space, all shouting over each other to be heard. Castiel would panic just thinking about going out there alone.

 His old doctor called it Agoraphobia.

Like most agoraphobics, Castiel could either conquer his fear or remain inside his tiny studio apartment forever. Castiel chose the later. 

If he was not reading novels, eating day old chinese food, or sleeping, he was at his window. The closest he’d ever gotten to crowds without his brother holding his hand was here, at his perpetually opened window that led to the fire escape. It overlooked the bar and grill next door and part of the alley that was between the restaurant and his apartment complex.

He watched people, milling about in their daily lives. Most of them either in a rush to get someplace else or to get drunk at The Roadhouse next door. Part of Castiel longed to be out there, running some place, drinking in crowds, having a friend. But something would lock him in place, fear would keep him curled up on his windowsill, watching the world pass him by.

On good days, he could see a blonde with rippling muscles and a warm, cocky smile. He had worked at the restaurant for as long as Castiel has been watching the place. And he was smiling, always happy, always with people. Castiel envied this man, dreamed of having a life like that.

Instead Castiel watched the world pass from his place at his window, waiting for enough courage to walk outside his door.

Jimmy Novak, Castiel’s elder twin by ten minutes, was the one person Castiel felt close to. When they were children, they held hands all the time. Jimmy usually dropped Castiel’s hand first but that was alright. Because Jimmy gave Castiel candy and was willing to walk hand-in-hand with Castiel until they were 23. That’s when Jimmy met Amelia and Castiel moved into his studio apartment.

He had a couch, a television with basic cable, and walls full of books. Jimmy would visit every other day with food and other necessities. Castiel could survive in this new routine, even if he felt like his brother was trying to get rid of him.

Then the news reports started to come. Castiel didn’t like to watch the news, it usually made him panic. Jimmy understood that and most of the time did not bother Castiel with events of the world. But one day Jimmy did not show up. He hadn’t in three days which never happened. So Castiel turned on the news. 

He was hoping for reports of a body but what it the news was talking about was a meteor, hurtling towards Earth. The news caster said the world was ending and that people were rioting in the streets. Castiel could hear the shouting from his seat on the couch. He felt the clenching in his chest, the beginning of a panic attack. He tried to breath deep as he watched the news reports.

The meteor, roughly the size of a European country was falling rapidly towards the mid-west of the United States, just north of Kansas where Castiel had been born, raised and forgotten in. Jimmy probably escaped with Amelia and Claire, their daughter. Which would have been for the best. Castiel would happy end his miserable life being crushed by a meteor.

Castiel turned off the television and wandered over to the window again.

The blonde was there in the street. He was surrounded by a group of women, laughing and talking with each one. Castiel felt that urge to go down there, to be surrounded by people, to have  a normal life. But the what if people didn’t like him? If they gave him that same pitying expression that Jimmy gave him? Castiel felt the anxiety begin to build and he turned to the refrigerator to find something to eat.

When he returns, the blonde man is alone, drinking from a large bottle. The girls are walking away, dodging a crowd of teenagers. The blonde leaned against the side of the building, taking a large gulp of whatever he’d been drinking. There was a moment in time when Castiel could pretend that he was leaning beside that man, enjoying the blue sky above and the silence of a world at peace.

Then someone lit a trash can on fire and the blonde stepped inside the bar again.

A week later, Castiel had nothing left but browning lettuce. The meteor was still another week  away from hitting the earth and the streets of Kansas had been cleared but there was very little hope of escape. The estimated damage was most of the continent. There was no escaping the destruction.

Most people fled the country in hopes of survival. The ones that stayed behind had either gotten tired of looting Lawrence or went home to their families. And here was Castiel, no more food and no family or friends.

He laid across the windowsill, looking up at the stars and listening for any sound at all. There was none. No one was outside in the streets, the power had long been shut out. Castiel was alone.

Alone in a city where the streets were empty.

The idea began to form like slow rotating gears. Finally, they clicked into place and Castiel realized he could finally go outside. For once in his life, he could step outside the door on his own without the fear of crowded people hovering over him, judging him, stepping on him. Castiel dressed himself in the only outfit he owned that was appropriate for the outdoors.

Jimmy had left a simple black suit in Castiel’s closet once three years ago and never came to get it. It had a pressed white dress shirt and matching tie that barely fit Castiel. In the week that he was alone, Castiel must have lost a lot of weight. The suit fell off him, revealing the pale expanse of neck. He’d never learned to tie a tie properly so the piece of silk fell messily against his neck. His hair was a mess but Castiel too bothered by it.

He found a baggy overcoat his father use to own and stepped outside his apartment for the first time since he moved in. He panicked for a second, heart beating, palms sweating and he groped around seeking his brother’s hand. When he reached nothing but air, he realized he was all alone.

He laid back against the wall for a just a minute to compose himself. When his heart finally settled and his belly grumbled, he found the courage to walk the two flights of stairs and leave his apartment complex. 

He took a long breath of the outside, smelling the asphalt on the streets and fresh flowers beside him. There was so much space, such potential for a group of people to come running after him. Castiel felt the world begin to spin again, panic setting in.

“I need a drink.” He croaked and took the seventeen steps to the bar next to the apartment. He took a moment to stare at the sign above the old red double doors. In very legible cursive was ‘Harvelle’s’. The lights looked red, if they were turned on. Underneath, in basic block letters was ‘Roadhouse’. Castiel appreciated this exact moment. Here he was, out in the wide world without any help at all, about to walk into the bar he’d seen from his window for longer than he could remember.

He stepped up to the door and pushed, watching as they swung open, leaving dust trails across the floor. It was dark inside, the only light filtering in from a window set up beside the bar. There was a lone man sitting on a stool.

A stranger.

Castiel heaved a great sigh, willing all the courage in the world to give him the strength to walk up to that bar. His hand twitched with the urge to grab for Jimmy. But Jimmy wasn’t there, again. And Castiel was on his own, like always. 

Castiel stepped inside the bar, exhaling when he passed through the threshold. With one step came the next and the next until he was at the bar, taking a seat one bar stool away from the stranger. He inwardly cheered at his accomplishment as he waited for a bartender to take his order. He glanced over the rows of bottles, most of them empty or broken. He eyes fell on the man beside him, the same blonde man Castiel use to watch from his windowsill.

The man, handsome chiseled features, broad shoulders and a drunk expression. His eyes, bright green, were clouded over as he watched Castiel. His hands, large and tan, hovered over the neck of a bottle of beer. He wore a tight black shirt that hugged his rippling muscles and a pair of worn jeans that did the same. He was far more handsome up close and Castiel was slightly envious. Even if he had braved the wide and unpredictable world on his own, he could never be as popular as the man beside him. Castiel just wasn’t handsome enough.

He looked away then, back to his folded hands as he waited for the bartender. They are quiet the entire time, the only noise was Castiel’s tapping foot against the metal bar stool. He felt his anxiousness begin to fade because this, this was normal. This, Castiel could handle.

“Did you want something?” The man beside him spoke and Castiel turned to him with pure shock. The man was smiling softly, amused like his brother use to look at him. Castiel felt himself returning the smile, feeling his aching limbs ease and relax.

“Uh...” Castiel began. He watched the man stand up and circle the bar until he finally came face to face with Castiel. He sighed, “Yes. I need a drink.”

The blonde man laughed, “We all do. What’s your poison?”

Castiel frowned. He didn’t know any liquor types or even beer brands. He’d never had a drink in his life. So he stared openly at the blonde, eyes wide and fearful. The blonde laughed, a wonderfully deep sound that made Castiel comfortable and embarrassed. Castiel smiled as well, “I’ve never had alcohol before.”

The blonde laughed, “I’ve noticed that.” He turns around and grabs a thin bottle with a blue label, “Then you’ll just have to try everything.”

He pulled two glasses and poured until both were full. He slid one towards Castiel and kept one for himself. The blonde smiled and took his glass in his large, long fingered hand. Castiel took his own, mimicking the blonde’s motions. Castiel sipped it lightly, coughing as it burned down his throat. The blonde laughed, gulping down a large portion of the liquid.

“Dean.” The man said after he swallowed the liquid. He put down the glass and pulled two more bottles from a refrigerator underneath the counter. He popped the tops and slid one to Castiel. He gladly took a sip of the beer, liking the taste much better.

“Castiel.” He smiled and the blonde, Dean, did as well.

Dean held out his beer bottle and waived it at Castiel. Castiel frowned at him, confused by the gesture. Dean just laughed, took Castiel by the wrist that held the beer bottled and clanked them together, “Cheers, Man.”

He took a sip, Castiel mimicked him. Castiel dared to taste the amber liquid again, chasing it with a sip of beer. Dean laughed again and drank slowly.

After a long pause filled with sipping at their drinks, Dean finally asked, “So, what brings you here?”

Castiel wasn’t sure what had come over him. He felt a warmth in his belly, his muscles were felt weightless yet so heavy he could hardly lift them. He looked up into the bright green eyes and spilled his every thought and feeling. He talked about his parents, about his mother’s Postpartum Depression, about his own agoraphobia that left him solely dependent on his brother. 

Dean listened through the whole thing, pouring more drinks when he needed to. By the end, Castiel was sobbing, pitifully telling Dean that he was lonely despite being afraid of people. Castiel realized belatedly that he was incredibly drunk, slurring all over the place and he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything other than his liquor.

When Castiel finally collapsed into a whimpering mess, Dean laughed, circled around the bar and patted Castiel lightly on the shoulder, “It’s alright, buddy. We’ve all got our sob stories. Good thing the world is ending.”

Castiel looked up at Dean through watery eyes. He was warm and his smile was comforting. Castiel found himself unable to quell the feeling of comfort and family. He couldn’t resist any longer and maybe someday he’d blame the alcohol but her wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and revealed in the feeling of someone else close to him.

If he wasn’t so drunk, Castiel was sure that Dean would have pushed him away. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Dean threw him to the ground and beat him. Instead, Dean just laughed, patted Castiel on the back and pulled him to his feet. Castiel felt dizzy and leaned further into Dean. He took Castiel’s upper arm and led him to the back room.

“Alright, Huggy Bear,” Dean chuckled as he led Castiel, who was still trying to hold Dean as they walked up a flight of stairs situated behind the bar area, “I think you need to sleep.”

Castiel sighed against Dean, eyes slowly closing, “I miss my brother.”

“I miss mine, too.”

“Do you have a twin?”

“No,” Dean smiled, one hand across Castiel’s lower back the other was opening up a single wooden door that led to a large efficiency apartment. There was a ratty couch sitting around a wide screen television. In the other far corner was a king size mattress and a bundle of blankets. Dean took Castiel to the bundle of blankets, laying him across one side, “A little brother.”

Castiel yawned, “Where is he?”

Dean fixed a blanket around Castiel, “For a shut-in, you’re talkative.”

“I like you.” Castiel murmured into one of Dean’s pillows. Fortunately he had two, “You remind me of home, of Jimmy.”

Dean laughed, “Same to you, buddy.”

There was a moment of silence as Castiel shuffled around to get rid of his shoes. Dean made sure he wasn’t going to throw up and made his way back towards the bar area. Castiel muttered something and Dean turned to give him a look. Castiel looked at Dean from beneath the mess of blankets, “Where is your brother?”

Dean sighed, “California.”

Castiel nodded and curled tighter into the blankets, “I don’t know where Jimmy is.”

Dean sighed, sitting down next to Castiel. He pulled at the blankets to find the edges of Castiel’s jacket. He pulled at the overcoat and the suit jacket until Castiel wormed out of them and laid back against the bed. Dean fumbled with Castiel’s tie, “How come?”

Castiel whimpered and Dean was a little afraid he was going to throw up. But instead a small tear escaped the edges of Castiel’s eye, “I don’t know. He never came back to the apartment. Just one day he didn’t come with food. Now I’m all alone.”

Dean sighed, hands moving from Castiel’s tie to his hair. Dean stroked through the messy locks watching as Castiel went from shuddering whimpers to a relaxed, semi-asleep state. Dean sighed, “I don’t have anyone either.”

“You have me now.” Castiel sighed, curling up into Dean’s hand as it stroked through his hair.

Dean laughed, pulling the blankets up once more to tuck Castiel in, “Yeah, a drunk scaredy cat in a trench coat.”

“It’s an overcoat,” Castiel muttered as he fell asleep.

Dean sat there for a moment, making sure that Castiel was asleep before he shut down the bar. When Castiel began to snore lightly, Dean made his way downstairs. He shut down what he could, locking up what was important and finally chaining the door. He had someone to protect again. And he needed to ensure that whatever trouble was still out there, wouldn’t come attack them in the night.

He tested the door twice for resistance then made his way back upstairs. In his room, Castiel was curled up on one end. He had enough space on the other side of the mattress to sleep comfortingly. He was too tired, to wrung out to sleep on the couch. So he collapsed on the mattress, taking a wad of blankets and wrapping himself in it. He fell asleep almost instantly, comforted by the body heat behind him.

Dean had moved back to Lawrence, Kansas shortly after he turned 18. After having graduated from a decent school in California and almost falling into the wrong crowd, his father decided that moving around was too much, that anywhere but home was too much. His father got a job at the garage, Dean got his first job right here at Harvelle’s. Sammy graduated with top honors from the high school. And their family was happy.

Then his father, grief stricken or whatever his excuse had been, died in a car accident. He left behind mountains of debt and a spiteful son. On the day of his funeral, with Jo and Ellen flanking Dean’s side, Sam told Dean he had gotten a free ride to Stanford. He was going back to California and he was not coming back. 

Dean was almost alone.

Before the announcement of the meteor, Dean was the life of the party. He buried his feelings of betrayal and loneliness with booze and cheap women. He was the talk of the party. No, he was the party. And every night he could forget about family and death and abandonment.

And then the news reports came in. 

A meteor the size of Canada was hurtling towards Earth and would eventually strike somewhere in Wisconsin. They tried missiles and some knock-off version of Armageddon and now the United States was doomed. Well, there was hope in California or whatever but who could afford to live there. And not everyone can live on the West Coast.

At first it was one long party. Dean couldn’t get enough time away from available women and booze. But then the meteor got closer, the end of the world began to sink in. Dean woke up one morning and all that was left was Ellen and Jo.

Ellen, practically Dean’s mother now, was smiling sadly up at him as he came down the stairs. They had suitcases packed in the corner and a cooler filled with food. 

“What’s going on?” Dean asked.

Jo was behind the counter, pulling out one of the three shotguns hidden under the bar. Ellen caught his attention, “Dean, honey. You are more than welcome to come with us.”

“Come with you?”

“We’re going to South Dakota.” Jo announced.

“Wait,” Dean frowned, the gears were moving slow. He was probably still a little hung over. He looked at Ellen’s sad face, the lack of spark and hope that had kept Dean going since he was 18. She took his face in her hands and smiled. Dean felt his heart plummet, “Right in the zone of the meteor.”

“Bobby Singer is there.” Ellen’s eyes were dreamy, a bright brown that made Dean wonder how important this man had been to Ellen. He wondered if he could ever make a connection like that. Well, certainly not in a week, “I...Dean, I have to see him. If we can get him soon enough, we’ll go to Seattle. We’ll try to survive.”

Dean felt all the air leave him, felt the same hollow pain he’d felt when his father died and Sam had left. He tried to convince himself that he’d have people to keep him company. There were plenty of lonely, pathetic, suicidal drunkards in Lawrence to help Dean forget this.

“You can come with us,” Jo said from the bar, “There’s room and equipment for three.”

He wondered if he could take that kind of risk. But the idea of leaving made him anxious, depressed. He wasn’t going to tag along to chase Ellen’s childhood crush. He was going to stay right here and face his death. He didn’t have anything else to live for.

Dean took Ellen’s hands in his, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Ellen. But, I want to stay here.”

Ellen nodded, “I knew you would.”

Dean couldn’t say why, couldn’t understand how important it was to do what he had always done, even if the world was ending. But he wanted to. He would miss Ellen and Jo but he was going to die here, alone.

Ellen kissed his cheek, “I hope you’re happy.”

“You too.”

Ellen laughed, “I’m chasing a 20 year old dream. I’ve never been happier.”

He hugged Jo tightly and watched them drive away. The streets of Lawrence were practically deserted, devoid of life and cars. Dean was utterly alone but this time, he chose it. He sighed heavily, leaned against the wall of the Roadhouse and glanced up towards the looming apartment complex. 

Every single room was empty, except for one. On the forth floor, half leaning out of the window next to the fire escape, was a man. He had wild, dark brown hair and wide blue eyes. He looked terrified.

Dean chuckled to himself. He wasn’t entirely alone. There was just the crazy shut-in and himself.

Dean didn’t really lock the main doors. He didn’t feel the need to. There was just him and walls of liquor and if someone wanted to kill him to get to said alcohol, then that’s fine. He would gladly die. He was going to either way.

What he hadn’t expected was said crazy shut-in being the first to open those doors. And it was only a day after Jo and Ellen left. Dean could not exactly complain about the way fate worked.

He’d been watching the Mole of Floor Four for about two years now. He always wondered about the man’s story. Why did he always stare down at the Roadhouse? What kept him trapped up there in those shitting apartments? Was he still a virgin?

And now the man was entering the Roadhouse, on the first day that Dean was left absolutely alone. The guy was panting, Dean could hear him breathing from the bar. His feet shuffled across the ground as he walked the long path from the front door to the bar area. When the footsteps stopped and a shaky exhale echoed, Dean understood why the man never left his apartment. He was afraid of people. Dean couldn’t remember what people like that were called but he understood what kind of pressure the guy was under. Dean continued to nurse his beer. He didn’t want to startle the man and destroy this impressive step that he was taking. 

He waited until the man sat down on the barstool before he even took the opportunity to look at him. He looked like a bum, face unshaven and hair a wild mess. He nervously shook his foot but his fingers remained perfectly still, clenched together as he waited for something. Dean laughed to himself, he was waiting for some bartender to serve his drinks.

Even though it was fun to look at that lost little puppy look, he couldn’t resist any longer. He turned to the man with a smile and asked as casually as possible, “Did you want something?”

The shut-in turned to him with wide blue eyes, “Uh...”

Dean took the opportunity to circle around the bar. The guy was definitely a virgin. He was probably a virgin at everything, including alcohol. Dean was already prepared to pull the Blue Label for the guy when he asked for a drink.

Dean was sure he wouldn’t be able to take the burn of whiskey well but man the guy tried. His face turned red from coughing but he still tried to swallow. Dean grabbed two Blue Moons for them as chasers. The shut-in seemed to like that more.

“Dean.”

“Castiel.”

Nothing, not even a hug from Sammy was as easy as talking to Castiel. He talked and talked and talked. His mother was crazy nut-job, his father was emotionally stunted. And the only thing in Castiel’s life that was worth something, in fact it was his entire world, was his twin brother. Dean felt familiarity with Castiel’s life story. By the end of the night, with Castiel wasted and trying to hug the life out of Dean, he kind of forgot what it meant to be lonely. Which was totally weird because Castiel was just a nut job crashing in Dean’s bed.

But the last time Dean felt this light was when his father was alive. That had to mean something.

And the guy was just so helpless, clinging to Dean like a little brother should. Dean decided that this could be a better way to live before death, being with someone who could possibly be a friend, who could be like family.

  


Waking up next to a body, especially one as warm and comfy as Dean’s body, made Castiel feel like he could do anything. He felt like he could stand up to a crowd of people stampeding towards him and he wouldn’t even care. Not if Dean was there with him.

“If your up, you can make coffee.” Dean groaned from his place on the bed, a pile of blankets covering his face. Castiel chuckled to himself but instead of moving he just laid flat on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling normal and happy.

Castiel raised his hand, looking at the lines and patterns that were almost identical to Jimmy’s hand. When Castiel got really lonely, he would stare at his hands and think it was Jimmy’s hand. He would even intertwine his right and left hand together, imaging that it was he and Jimmy holding hands again. He wondered if he held Dean’s hand, would he be able to conquer his fear of crowds. 

“I held Jimmy’s hand when we were outside until I was 22.” Castiel sighed, tracing the life line from the center of his hand to the wrist, “It was the only thing that kept me calm and gave me the strength to face my fear.”

“Your fear of...” Dean prompted, watching Castiel’s hand.

“People.” Castiel sighed, “Lots of people and sometimes a person if they don’t feel right.”

Dean laughed, “Feel right?”

“If they don’t feel like...” Castiel struggled, “like a righteous person.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “You’re intuition is off because I’m certainly not a righteous person.”

Castiel’s bright eyes found Dean’s from beyond the pile of blankets. Dean froze in place, mind going blank under the intensity of Castiel’s stare. Oddly enough, Dean didn’t feel weird or scared by Castiel’s gaze. He stared back, waiting for the man to speak. 

“You are a very good man, Dean.” Castiel said with all the faith and power a small, terrified man could muster. It was filled with such conviction that Dean almost believed it himself, almost. They were quiet for a awhile, Castiel watching Dean closely and Dean, trying to understand what type of person Castiel really was. After some time Castiel stated, “Sam is in California.” 

Dean groaned, “Yeah, last I heard it was Stanford.”

“What did he go to school for?”

“Law, I guess.” Dean yawned, “Where do you think Jimmy is?”

Castiel shrugged against the mattress, “I hope he’s in Seattle. That’s where Amelia lived before she went to college. Her parents still live there. I heard that Seattle might survive.”

Dean shrugged. The chances were slim that Seattle would avoid the destruction. After all, if the meteor didn’t kill you, the seismic waves that came after probably would. People alway forgot what happens after a huge rock hits the Earth.

Castiel turned his head towards Dean, “Do you have family beside your brother?”

Dean shook his head, “My mom died when I was little and my dad died a couple of years ago. They were all we had.”

“Me too. My mom committed suicide when I was eighteen. My father died after we moved here.” Castiel sighed, “I didn’t even go to his funeral.”

Dean turned to Castiel. His expression began to darken, eyes began to water. Dean bit his lip, hoping to come up with a better question, something happier for Castiel. Instead he asked the one question that plagued his mind since he first saw Castiel in the windowsill, “Why did Jimmy leave you alone in that apartment?”

“Amelia got pregnant.” Castiel sighed, “We were 22, I think. They’d been dating for awhile and then she came over one day and said she was pregnant and Jimmy was the father.” Castiel buried himself deeper in the sheets, warm and yet freezing cold as he recounted some of the worst moments in his life, “He wanted to marry her. But Amelia and I didn’t get along. So he bought me that place and he came to see me twice a week.”

“Why didn’t Amelia like you?” Dean interjected when Castiel began to choke a little.

Castiel took a moment to compose himself and turned to Dean, “I didn’t like her. She was...not family.”

Dean snorted, “You’re a freak.”

Castiel, for some strange reason, didn’t feel like Dean was being mean. He’d heard the phrase before and it made him feel terrible. But when Dean said it, with such a light and airy tone, he could only recognize it as Dean’s way of identifying what Castiel was. Dean couldn’t understand Castiel’s differences, couldn’t place what they were and yes, he was confused but he found it amusing all the same. Castiel smiled at him, “I wish I could. She didn’t make me comfortable. I felt like if I said the wrong things she’d stab me.”

“You’re paranoid.” Dean grinned, “What about me?”

Castiel shrugged, “You remind me of my brother. You’re my first friend.”

Dean swallowed awkwardly. He’d always avoided moments like this, important ones that would stick deep in your memory and haunt you forever. He’d never had a real friend outside his father and brother before. Castiel would have been the first not blood related to be a friend, to be someone Dean chose to be around.

“Dude, we’ve only known each other for 24 hours. You can’t be friends in a day.”

“Why not?”

Dean rolled his eyes. It was like dealing with a child, “ We don’t know if we have anything in common. Isn’t that how friendship works?” 

Castiel shrugged, “I never had friends.”

Dean sighed, “Neither have I.” But Dean had watched enough movies and friends always liked the same things. That a best friend had to be, someone who was exactly like you in every way, “What kind of music do you like?”

“I’m not sure I like music. Billie Holiday maybe. And I have a Bob Dylan record.”

“Man, two words,” Dean huffed, “Led Zeppelin.”

“I’ll remember that.” 

Dean snorted, “Favorite car?”

“One that doesn’t kill me.”

Dean laughed again, this time in actual amusement. He sat up, stretching his limbs, “What do you like?”

Castiel smiled softly, eyes glazing over in a look that Dean knew very well. Castiel made a strange gesture with his hands, spreading each finger wide like he was reaching for something, “Books. I like books.”

Dean snorted, “Nerd.”

The two laughed together, enjoying a moment that was rare in their lives. They had nothing in common with each other. But Dean was okay with that. They could still be friends, best friends, because Dean could teach Castiel about music and cars. And, if they have free time, he could pick up a book too.

There was a sudden commotion downstairs, engines roaring and the sound of the door breaking. Dean stood up, fixing his jeans and shirt that had ridden up during the night. Castiel made a move as well but Dean held up a hand.

If they were being robbed, Castiel wouldn’t be good in a fight. Dean took a few quiet, careful steps to the door and cracked it slightly. He heard burly laughter and bottles breaking. He turned back to Castiel who was slowly turning white in the face. 

“Stay here.” Dean took hold of a bat that was next to the door. He turned back to Castiel, “There’s an axe underneath the bed. If anyone gets up here, swing it around. You’ll be fine.”

Castiel shuddered, visibly turning white and tried to form words, “W-wh-what are you...”

“My car keys are down there. I just need to distract them long enough so that we can get out of here.” Dean opened the door more, showing himself to anyone that happened to look up the stairs. Castiel scrambled to his feet, following Dean. 

Before Dean could protest, Castiel took hold of his upper sleeve and immediately relaxed. Dean rolled his eyes but allowed Castiel to follow. They walked down the stairs quietly hearing more and more voices. There was loud laughing and more bottles breaking. 

Dean handed Castiel the bat as the landed on the bottom floor.

“Excuse me,” Dean coughed. The bar was filled with bikers, huge and angry men covered in leather. Castiel stepped closer to Dean, gripping his shirt tightly. He held the bat tightly in his hand, unsure what he was suppose to do but he wanted to be ready for it. Dean tensed underneath Castiel’s hand, “This is our bar. We need you to leave.”

A burly man stood, most likely the ring leader, “Make us, fag.”

“I can, pal.” Dean hissed, “Don’t test me.”

Someone threw a bottle on the ground and the fighting started. For some reason, despite five to six people getting involved, Dean held his own. He was good and for the first time, Castiel was actually a little afraid. As Dean punched and kicked, he looked happy. He was grinning wide, eyes shinning with joy and Castiel wondered how this man became his comfort zone.

A skinnier man broke away from the crowd that was hovering over Dean. His nose was broken, twisted to this side and bleeding. He had a cut across the underside of his chin that didn’t look fresh. Castiel gripped the bat in two hands, raising it in front of his face for comfort.

“Well don’t you have a pretty face.” The man smiled, “Haven’t seen a lot of women around here. Makes a man kinda horny.”

Castiel shuddered, pure fear crippling him. This was why he hadn’t gone outside the apartment. This was why he never wanted Jimmy to leave his side. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Cas!” Dean shouted from the group of men. Castiel found Dean’s eyes, wide and full of the same fear that was gripping Castiel tightly. There was more than just fear in his eyes as Dean tried to break away from the other men. Dean was worried, he was concerned about Castiel and he was trying to save him. Even more startling is that he’d called Castiel by a nickname. No one had ever used a nickname.

Castiel felt warm inside, felt his muscles relax and his heart unclench. But the man was already on Castiel, gripping his arm tightly and yanking on him. Castiel shouted, closing his eyes tightly and swung his bat, “Let go, Assbutt!”

He heard bones crunch and the painful cry of a man whose arm was clearly broken. He stepped back in shock, falling into a buddy. The group of bikers paused, starring at Castiel who looked like a madman, panting and holding the bat tightly.

The group retreated. They pulled their friend from the bar and shut the doors as they left. Dean didn’t pay attention to them, just as long as they left. Instead he concentrated on Castiel, watching the man, his friend, shake with fear and adrenaline, “Cas?”

Castiel couldn’t focus. His heart was racing, blood rushing in his ears. His vision was blurry and he was prepared to swing again for self protection. Dean stepped up slowly, hands up in a gesture of submission. He called to Castiel again, meeting the man’s eyes. He took Castiel’s hand, threading their fingers together and loosening Castiel’s grasp on the bat.

“Come on, Cas.” Dean cooed, “You’re okay.”

Castiel finally relaxed, allowing Dean to take the bat. Dean grinned when Castiel’s eyes found Dean, “Dean?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Dean laughed, his grasp on Castiel’s hand tightened and he laughed, “Assbutt?”

“That was...” Castiel frowned, “That was all I could think of.”

“Man, don’t worry about it,” Dean grinned, “You were awesome.”

Castiel smiled, “Thank you.”

They laughed together and Castiel watched Dean flinch when a cut across his eye twitched. Castiel took the edges of his sleeve and wiped it across the cut, cleaning the wound as best as he could. They were quiet enough that they could hear the shuffling outside as well as the voices. The men were back and fumbling with something just outside of the bar. 

Dean gasped when the smell of gasoline permeated the stale air. He ran to the door, pulling and pushing on it only to realize they’d chained it from the outside. He turned back to Castiel who was starting to shake again.

“I have a car.” Dean stated. Castiel nodded but still would not move. There was the sound of a light being matched. Dean realized he didn’t have much more time. He ran back to the bar counter. Hanging by the register was the key to his father’s car, the one he inherited. He took the keys and pulled the last shot gun from underneath the cabinet. He took a box of shells with him before running over to Castiel.

The front doors slowly burned away, smoking filling up the bar. Castiel was still frozen, watching the flames unfold. Dean ran past his leather jacket, hanging by a hook beside the top shelf whiskey. He grabbed it, throwing it over Castiel’s shoulders when he reached the man. The fire was growing, catching on all the spilled liquor on the ground. He took Castiel’s face in his hands, “Cas, we have to run.”

Castiel’s eyes were unfocused, wide and watching the flames. Dean sighed and took Castiel’s hand, gripping it tightly. Castiel jumped when their fingers interlaced. His eyes turned to Dean’s, finding them amongst the smoke and his own hazy mind.

Dean smiled encouragingly, “We have to go.”

Castiel nodded and allowed himself to be dragged out the side door. They ran threw the alley between the bar and Castiel’s apartment. They ran until the came upon a wide parking lot. A sleek black car sat alone in the parking lot. 

Dean dragged Castiel all the way to the car, throwing the passenger seat open and tossing Castiel in. Dean laid the shotgun and shells on Castiel’s lap then ran over the passenger side. He eased into the driver seat and exhaled. He turned the car on, listening to it rumble like all classic cars do. 

He was thankful to always keep her full and stocked with snacks and weapons, just in case he decided he wanted to survive. He turned to Castiel, still shaking in the passenger seat. Behind him the Roadhouse was burning slowly to the ground. If they didn’t move fast, the bikers would realize they had escaped and come after them. They were still in danger and if they didn’t move soon, they would be dead.

“Castiel,” Dean called, “Cas, are you okay? Where do we go man?”

Dean realized neither he nor Castiel had shoes. In fact Castiel only had his dress pants and dress shirt, untucked and singed around the edges. Dean was in his three day old tee shirt, his Dad’s leather jacket and old jeans. Everything Dean ever had in his possession was either in this car or burning away in the bar. But, with Castiel alive and slowly coming to his senses beside Dean, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about the possessions. 

“West.” Castiel sighed, “Let’s go west.”

Dean frowned at Castiel but he followed his friend’s instructions. He took the back roads to the highway, narrowly avoiding the bikers who were encouraging the fire with more alcohol. When they were out of the path of destruction, heading west towards California, Dean finally relaxed, “Why are we going West?”

“We’re going to find your brother.” Castiel eased back against the seat, “Hopefully before the meteor hits.”

Dean, in all the sudden chaos and life changing events, had forgotten there was a meteor hurtling towards Earth that was ready to destroy all of them. He nodded, eyes on the wide, open road ahead of them, “Hopefully.”

“You’re going to tell him everything you wanted to tell him.” Castiel nodded, “And if we survive, then we go to Seattle and we find my brother. And I can finally meet Claire.”

Dean smiled, “I like that plan.”

They were quiet for awhile, Dean mapping out the pathway to Sam in his mind. He made the plan a dozen times, calculated how long it could take him to get there, if he had enough time to hit the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas on his way there. He never imagined having someone along for the ride, having a friend to provide entertainment.

Dean never imagined that he’d have a friend at all.

“I think now is a good time to introduce me to your music.” Castiel muttered as he eased into the seat, relaxing completely. The adrenaline from the fight, fire and fear. He had a dopy grin on his face as he turned to Dean, “Where are your tapes?”

Dean grinned, “Man, you are speaking my language. It’s under your seat.”

Castiel reached underneath his seat, fishing out a worn shoe box. He pulled a tape out and read the side, “Should we listen to...” he paused, reading the writing, “‘Black Sabbath’ or ‘ACDC’.”

Dean smiled. He reached into the box and pulled out ‘Green River’. He slipped it into the deck and leaned back in his seat. He waited for the song to start. After a few beats of the guitar, Dean began to sing, “ _I see the bad moon rising, I see trouble on the way_...” 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew...I finally finished this one. This is what I had hoped the Steve Carrell movie would be like :)  
> Hope you enjoyed.


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